Date Issues
by Tattles
Summary: Mycroft finds it hard to find a date and so he utilise the resources available to him to abduct himself some dates. But someone thinks the man is lonely and needs a date of his own. Who will play matchmaker for Mycroft Holmes? A five times Mycroft abducted himself and date and the one time he didn't.
1. The First Abduction

**Title:** Date Issues

**Rating:** M, 15+

**Warnings:** slash, male/male, abductions, swearing, Mycroft with a lot of people romantically or not, etc. Un-beta 'd so it could very well be crap with horrible grammar and punctuation mistakes let alone the spelling mistakes I've likely made.

**Parings:** Mycroft with almost everyone, as dates or friends or using them, it is Mycroft so he would. I don't want to ruin the ending.

**Characters:** Mycroft Holmes, D.I. Lestrade, Mrs Hudson, Anthea, Sherlock, John Watson, OC, Sally Donovan and Anderson.

**Prompt:** 5 times Mycroft abducted himself a date and 1 time his date abducted him

**Word Count:** ? over 8000 and not finished

**Summary:** Five Times Mycroft abducted himself and date and then one time that his take was set up for him. In which Mycroft abuses his government power to date and ends up coming out of the closet.

Mycroft finds it hard to find a date and so he utilise the resources available to him to abduct himself some dates. But someone thinks the man is lonely and needs a date of his own. Who will play matchmaker for Mycroft Holmes?

**Authors Note: **So I've been working on this for a while, you know how it is; a blank document with a title sits in your folder for a while, you find it and go 'oh I remember this. I think I'll have a go at it now' and then your off and writing and you forget the world outside. So yeah, that's me with this. Apart from the five months where it sat half-finished while I've been busy with uni. So if there is any inconsistency or it makes no sense I'm sorry.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sherlock or anything associated to it, that all belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Dolye and the BBC.

Enjoy.

...

**The First Abduction**

Mycroft encountered the first dilemma of his career when he was invited to an official gathering. In any other job that wouldn't have caused a stress headache and a mad dash to find a date. Because for official gatherings like the one he was attending a date was essential, to go without was to present the wrong image and could potentially affect his future career.

And so Mycroft decided that Anthea would play the role as his date for this particular event. Unfortunately Mycroft neglected to tell his unsuspecting date of the planned evening.

As the evening of the ball drew closer Mycroft had Anthea organise the car and check his wardrobe. He also asked her to find a dress for his date, telling her she was about her size. It never crossed Anthea's mind that she was Mycroft's date, she merely thought it was some girl, a hired one or a friend, maybe even a relation. She never thought for a second that it was her.

And so on the night of the ball found both Anthea and Mycroft still in their office, Anthea was packing up and Mycroft was getting ready. Mycroft stepped from his office in his tailored three-piece suit the dress Anthea had picked draped over his arm. He smiled at Anthea before saying "I'll give you a lift home on the way" not a hint of his plan showing in his voice or tone. Anthea nodded picking up her own things and following Mycroft out of the office, into the elevator, out of the building and into the waiting car.

They chatted idly about the coming week and Mycroft's appointments, Anthea reminding him that he had a meeting with the chairmen of the government bodies and departments. They were almost at the grand building where the ball was to be held when Anthea looked up from her Blackberry and asked "Where are we going?" she looked at Mycroft questionly before comprehension filled her eyes, "you bastard" she cried before turning away.

Mycroft smirked, laying the dress across Anthea's lap, "for tonight" he said before leaning back and enjoying the rest of the car trip. When they reached their destination Anthea was dressed and angry, she hid it behind a mask of gentility but Mycroft knew she was furious at him. Sighing he grinned, relishing the fact that he was safe from her wrath, for now.

Apart from Anthea's ever present anger towards him, Mycroft's evening was pleasant enough. When he said pleasant he meant as pleasant as these events could be but he'd rather be anywhere else. Despite that the evening did prove productive and was soon over.

The next day Mycroft found a photo sitting underneath a smashed Blackberry. A message in Anthea's hand placed on top. "Don't you ever pull a stunt like that on me again, if you do I will be forced to kill. 'Anthea'" it read. Chucking Mycroft sat down, placing the Blackberry and photo into his briefcase; he'd keep them as a memento of his first true exercise of power but also as a reminder that his assistant was not to be trifled with.


	2. The Second Abduction

**The Second Abduction**

After his disastrous abduction date with Anthea, Anthea made herself Mycroft default date for all events. She also decided that her boss needed a man of his own and so formulated the devious plan of parading all the office boys before him.

Of course Anthea knew to parade the boys and not the numerous office girls. She'd learnt very early on that Mycroft preferred the men when she'd seen him turn his nose at a woman before turning to discreetly ogle a man during one of their many forays into seedy clubs for threatening meetings with the criminal world. It was those kinds of meetings that Mycroft relished because they gave him the chance to show off his tremendous power and influence.

And Anthea used the unending source of office boys to tempt Mycroft away from the office and out on a date. The kind of date that was for fun and not for strengthening or furthering his career. For a year Anthea paraded boys passed her boss, not one ever caught his eye long enough for an introduction; not that they needed to know who he was because they would already be well aware that he was Mycroft Holmes.

In all that time none caught Mycroft's eye, the man spent all his time managing Britain political climate and relationships with foreign countries, using his presence as incentive to do his bidding. Mycroft also occupied himself with monitoring his younger brother, Sherlock. Watching as Sherlock intruded on crime scenes and upped the closed cases rate of one Detective Inspector Lestrade. The man had been working with Sherlock for two years now and was beginning to warm to Mycroft's aloft and offend moody brother. Mycroft was immensely pleased that the detective had managed to get his brother to kick his drug habits.

With his time occupied thus Mycroft saw no need to date. Dating was for the common people, with lives that made up the whole. Dating had no time in his busy and demanding life.

And yet when George was paraded past him Mycroft paused, glancing up at the boy before him placing a cup of tea on his desk. "Thank you" he said, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a delicate sip, savouring the twang of the tea and the sight of the boy. He was smiling, "George Clifton, sir. And may I saw it's an honour to meet you"

Mycroft inclined his head politely.

George left.

But was back the next day delivering Mycroft's tea again. Obviously Anthea had noted the exchange between the pair, something that had never occurred between Mycroft and any of the other office boys. Once again Mycroft thanked George, in reply he was asked if he needed anything else. The answer was no. Mycroft didn't need anything else, but once again Anthea had other ideas. Somehow she organised a date between the two with either of them knowing.

And so two days later, Mycroft was in his black car on his way home when he noted that the driver was going to wrong way. Pointing this out earned him a wondering glance, suggesting the change in destination should have been known to him. Mycroft whipped his mobile phone out and had the phone up to his ear when the car jerked slightly as it stopped. Mycroft was more than a little curious when his driver left his seat and went around the car to open the door. Glancing out the window Mycroft saw the darkened figure of another man, young by the looks of it. That was all Mycroft noted before he was distracted by Anthea answering her phone, "What is the meaning of this?" his voice was deadly calm and serious.

"With all due respect sir, you needed a night out for fun. George is nice and more than willing."

"George" Mycroft breath glancing up as the door was opened and the young man in question slid in nervously. Mycroft smiled, hoping it was reassuring but knowing it more than likely seemed predatory.

In no time at all they arrived at the destination. Mycroft stepped out first, giving the street and restaurant front a sweeping glance. The restaurant was a flashy and expensive; the hostess behind her podium inside rushed to open the door for them, smiling as she ushered them in and lead the pair to their seats in a private booth.

Their menus were placed in front of them with a short 'your waitress will be with you shortly' before the hostess left them alone. Unsettled by Anthea's date scheme and out of practice Mycroft was unsure of what to say, instead he simple observed his surrounds and George.

He already knew quite a bit about him; he was Russian born, he spoke with a watered down accent which Mycroft found pleasant and yet unsettling, most likely from the experiences he'd had with the Russians in the past. George had checked out in all the governmental security checks; no terrorist affiliations or affiliations to any European spy networks.

And with that in mind Mycroft relaxed his guard slightly, not by much but enough that when George turned assassin he wasn't prepared.

As it was George pulled a gun before the desserts and coffee were bought out. Mycroft ducked away from the gun before grabbing his umbrella. Pulling the handle out, Mycroft brandished the hidden blade, with quick work he had George incapacitated and Anthea and his security force on their way.

Taking advantage of the few minutes before his team arrived Mycroft took the initiative to interrogate his would-be assassin. Mycroft applied all his usual tricks; false promises of leniency, threats, pain, and intimidation. However none of his tactics were working on the boy, who seemed to be gloating in his success. "You should keep in mind that there are those in my employ who are specially trained to extract information. They would not hesitate to use any measure at their disposal in order to reach the desired result" Mycroft spoke nonchalantly as he calming strode around his prisoner, "Keep that in mind. We don't want you to come to unnecessary harm."

George remained silent, lips pursed but the smug look gone. A minute into the silence Anthea and the team arrived. They immediately set about containing the assassin and dealing with the minimal damage control. The staff and customers of the restaurant had all run when George pulled his weapon leaving few witnesses to Mycroft's acts, there were however a number of 999 calls made and as result Anthea also had the police force present, needing reassurance of their authority and jurisdiction and ultimately they needed to be dispersed of.

Within the hour the restaurant was closed and empty; the police, customers, staff and Mycroft's people all gone. The evening would not be making the news, either that night or in the morning. Anthea and Mycroft were the last to leave, the car driving off into the night, this time on its way to Mycroft's home, the cars occupants silent. As they stopped before Mycroft's house, he turned a glare on Anthea who smiled sheepishly back. Scoffing Mycroft slipped out of the car, pausing before shutting the door, his hand grasping the door frame. "Never again" he growled at Anthea before slamming the car door and stalking to his front door. As the car disappeared into the night Mycroft let himself in, anticipating falling into his soft bed.


	3. The Third Abduction

**The Third Abduction**

Mycroft's third abduction caused quite a stir, leaving Mycroft as the target for a lot as animosity after that abduction. Neither Anthea nor Sherlock were terribly impressed with him. Mycroft's abductee was John. It was his second abduction of John, though for an entirely different purpose than that of the first abduction.

Mycroft had taken it upon himself to physically interrogate and get to know his brother's flatmate as there was only so much a file, camera footage and one meeting could tell you. Mycroft was interested in the motivating factors of John, the why of why he stayed and put up with Sherlock. And so one fine Tuesday evening Mycroft had John bundled into his sleek black car and taken to the little French place around the corner from Baker Street were Mycroft was already waiting.

John, to his credit, was calm as he was walked into the familiar restaurant by Mycroft driver. He simply raised an eyebrow at Mycroft before saying, "Sherlock is not going to be pleased with you" Mycroft shrugged it off and offered John a seat. Once they were seated a waiter came over with their menus, handing then over he then began to rattle of the specials and chiefs choice. Mycroft stopped the man mid-sentence with a raised hand, "Thank you very much that will be all" he's voice dripped condescension.

John flashed an apologetic smile to the waiter before turning to glare at Mycroft, "Was that really necessary?" John watched Mycroft peruse his menu ignoring his question, John was struck by the similarities in the Holmes brothers; John was certain Sherlock would have been as short with the waiter if he was in Mycroft place.

However it's not a waiter who came back to take their orders but the restaurant owner, Antonio. The man was all smiles for John, recognising him as Sherlock's date and friend. His smile however turns into a frown when he sees Mycroft instead of Sherlock. Mycroft not realising why the man is no longer smiling and not caring rattles off his order, John smiles hesitantly at Antonio before asking for the usual. Still frowning Antonio leaves them but not before shaking his head angrily.

"The staffing here is appalling" Mycroft comments once Antonio's gone. John didn't answer, he didn't even both to glare, just resigned himself to a horrible evening.

The conversation from there fell, John not bothering to make an input while Mycroft seemed to make a genuine effort to get to know John and keep the conversation going. However Mycroft didn't get long to try to make conversation, Antonio soon returned to their table with a plastic bag in hand and their bill. He placed both on the table, "As the owner of this restaurant I reserve the right to refuse service. Please take your food, pay and leave."

Mycroft glared at the man, "You will serve my friend and I our food on a plate and we will take as long as we want."

"No" Antonio replied, "You only get the food because of Sherlock" John sighed, resting his head in his hands, he knew this wouldn't go well. Antonio glanced at John before saying, "I should tell Sherlock and save him some pain"

John went to deny the claim but Mycroft beat him to it. "John would never hurt Sherlock, if he did he would have to face myself and he knows I could cover up what happens to him" this was said with a deliberate look towards John. He sighed again.

"You're friends with Sherlock too? How could you do this to him? The poor boy will be disappointed."

"I'm his brother" Mycroft proclaimed, "and I'm not doing anything to him"

Antonio huffed and walked away. John stood picking up the bag, "You're paying for this Mycroft" he said before walking towards the exit. Mycroft stood after a moment, wondering how the evening got so out of hand. He knew he should have taken John to the new French restaurant and not to one that John felt familiar with. Standing Mycroft straightened his suit jacket, fixed his tie before walking towards the front counter to pay. He passed the bill over with his card imperiously telling the man behind the counter credit and that no, he didn't sign.

He and John were soon in the waiting car, their food in plastic Chinese containers. Mycroft told the driver to take them to Baker Street and John assumed that the driver knew it was 221 Baker Street that he was driving to.

When the car pulled up Mycroft handed John the plastic bag saying that he and Sherlock would enjoy it more than he would. As John stepped out Mycroft called out, "Sorry about that" John smiled slightly before slamming the door. With the door shut Mycroft's driver pulled out and he was soon out of sight of 221B Baker Street.

Sitting in his car as it drove him back to his office Mycroft began to regret abducting John for a get to know you. He knew he could have gone about it differently, he definitely knew he could have gone about it more delicately. He only hoped that Sherlock would turn on him aggressively, he had been known to hack and plant virus when annoyed at Mycroft. And there was the one time when Mycroft's umbrella had been sabotaged.

Mycroft had gained something from the 'date' he was now curious about his brother's relationship with his flatmate. Perhaps they could expect a happy announcement, maybe not at the end of the week but sometime in the future.


	4. The Fourth Abduction

**The Fourth Abduction**

Mycroft's forth abduction couldn't really be considered a date or an abduction really. After the debacle of the 'date' with John Mycroft had found himself observing his brothers interaction with John. He'd noticed that his brother paid particular attention to his flatmate, always taking him into consideration as if he were a puppy trying to please his master. On one of his visits Mycroft noticed the lack of experimental clutter in the kitchen, and on another that the room had a lot less of Sherlock's unorganised clutter and more of an organised clutter, the usual objects were still present but they were not strewn around the place.

Mycroft put it all down to Sherlock's desire and need to impress and keep John. And so his mind set about to deciphering why. To help him in this task Mycroft decided that he need an inside ear and eye, someone who was intimately acquainted with the doings of his brother and flatmate. For this purpose Mycroft had to enlist the aid of Mrs Hudson, the landlady.

With this in mind Mycroft began planning, checking his calendar, making space for their meeting. Then there was the issue of making sure Sherlock had no inkling of Mrs Hudson's abduction. All in all it was six weeks after Mycroft abducted John for a date that Mycroft found the time to abduction Mrs Hudson.

That morning Anthea had reported that Scotland Yard had called his brother and Dr Watson in and that the flat would be empty. Smiling Mycroft had ordered he's car to be ready. Taking himself to 221 Baker Street Mycroft knocked, sporting a charming smiling for Mrs Hudson when she answered the door.

When his brother's landlady opened the door, Mycroft did nothing but smile. "Mr Holmes" was his greeting, slightly frosty but still welcoming with a hint of curiosity. Having Sherlock as a tenant must have made the lady familiar with unusual occurrences. It had certainly done nothing but increase her natural human curiosity.

"Mrs Hudson, if I could take up a little of your time" With a tilt of her head, Mrs Hudson regard the eldest Holmes brother for a moment. Nodding she stepped back "Of course, come in come in. Tea?"

Mycroft stepped into the flat, glancing around himself. It was everything he'd be expecting; floral patterns, little figurines everywhere and a crockery display cabinet.

"Yes, thank you" he replied to the offer of tea. Repressing the urge to grimace, he sat at the kitchen table where he noted a pile of newspapers. Glancing around again, Mycroft noted the pile on the display cabinet. And another pile next to the hat stand, with plenty more scattered around the room. Mycroft noted that some of the piles appeared to be years old. There was a pile of frames sitting on the lounge room coffee table, he supposed that they were framed newspaper clippings. Oh what he couldn't know for certain. He'd guess they were either related to her husband's case or they were related to cases Sherlock had taken on.

Mycroft looked back at Mrs Hudson in the kitchen, busy preparing a plate of cakes and biscuits to have along with the tea. Placing it all on a tray, Mrs Hudson carried it to the table where she unloaded the goods before sitting herself opposite Mycroft. Smiling his thanks, Mycroft picked up the tea cup offered to him and took a small sip. The brew was tolerable in a cheap way, certainly not up the standard Mycroft was use to being served.

The two sat in silence, one pondering the reason for this visit and the other wondering how best to broach the subject he desired to hear about.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Mrs Hudson asked, after a further five minutes of silence in which their tea had been drunk and they'd started on the cakes.

"I came to inquire about the" here Mycroft paused, appearing to search for the right word, "status of my brother and John Watson"

"I beg your pardon?" Mrs Hudson cried in confusion, "Status?"

Mycroft glanced away, "Are they in a relationship?" he asked bluntly.

Mrs Hudson didn't reply, she glanced towards the pile of frames in her lounge room. "I couldn't possibly say" she replied after a time.

Mycroft was growing annoyed; he'd asked a simple enough question. Perhaps Mrs Hudson didn't know either. If John and Sherlock acted like a couple without being one, how was one suppose to know if they were one or not. Mrs Hudson could be having the same issue his own men were having determining whether the two men were dating or chasing leads on a case. Either way their nights ended with running.

"Why not Mrs Hudson? I am Sherlock's brother; I only wish to know if he is happy"

Mrs Hudson didn't reply, she looked away from Mycroft, avoiding his gaze.

"Mrs Hudson, is my brother happy? Does Dr Watson show any sign that they are a couple?"

Still Mrs Hudson refused to answer, "I couldn't betray them like that Mr Holmes. If Sherlock wants you to know he will tell you himself"

Mycroft repressed the urge to sigh, "Has my brother's behaviour changed?" Mrs Hudson shook her head no, Mycroft suspected it was a no she wasn't going to answer not a no his behaviour hadn't changed. "Does he treat Dr Watson differently since I whisked the good doctor way for 'date'?"

Mrs Hudson looked up at Sherlock's brother, wondering had Sherlock's behaviour changed. Mycroft observed the change in the landlady.

"Mrs Hudson, I am not asking you to betray my brother or even to spy on him. I'm merely asking if he's well and if my… actions towards John Watson have changed his behaviour. Has anything changed, Mrs Hudson?"

"Dear me, I'm not sure about this" Mycroft made a pleading face, sucking up his pride. Mrs Hudson hesitated, glancing away before she answered, "Sherlock and Dr Watson they… well I don't think they need that second bedroom anymore"

"They are together then?"

Mrs Hudson nodded, "But you didn't hear it from me. Those two boys are more secretive than the whole of MI6."

Mycroft laughed, Mrs Hudson could very well be right. Mycroft had got what he wanted to know. Perhaps he could get a few more details out of Mrs Hudson before he returned to the office. Or at least before Sherlock returned.


	5. The Fifth Abduction

**The Fifth Abduction**

Mycroft's fifth abduction came as a surprise to all, though the actual event wasn't common knowledge, not even to Sherlock, until a month later.

Mycroft had first met Gregory Lestrade five years previous when Sherlock first introduced himself to the detective. Since then Mycroft had barely paid attention to the DI, and yet the man was a reassuring figure whenever Mycroft stopped by a crime scenes, the man's steady presence and commanding authority telling Mycroft that the detective was not one to mess with.

And so it went about that subconsciously Mycroft noticed Lestrade but conscious Mycroft was oblivious to the man. That is until that one fateful night when Sherlock risked John and his own life with a madman.

That night Mycroft took himself to the scene, not at all in his normal calm and composed state. Anthea sat beside him offering her comforting presence. When he arrived the constable at the tape refused to let him into the site, not even his government ID card gained him entry. In the end Mycroft told the obstinate man to tell DI Lestrade that Mycroft Holmes was there to see his brother. The constable relayed the message through a walkie-talkie and once the reply came through lifted the tape for Mycroft apologising profoundly.

Mycroft took himself over to the D.I., Lestrade was issuing commands and overseeing the investigation. Mycroft stood waiting for the man to finish before demanding to be informed of any and all details of the case. Lestrade merely nodded, he's weariness apparent, before directing Mycroft to his brother out the man having to ask.

Mycroft nodded his thanks before following the detectives' directions to Sherlock. The night was nothing but unpleasant. It was a night Mycroft would wish to forget and yet it was the night that shaped the future of all involved.

The next morning Lestrade was in his office on time, a foul take-away coffee in hand. The DI was exhausted, worn out from the late nights working, he had dark blue bags under his eyes and every few minutes he would yawn. An angry growl came from his stomach as he sat down, taking a sip of coffee before tackling the pile of reports.

He didn't get far in the reports before he was interrupted by a visit from the Commissioner over the incidents of last night and the lead up to it. The man railed for half an hour over Sherlock and the general incompetence of his team, after that he issued Lestrade with a warning before leaving in a flurry of self-importance. Lestrade just sat there too tired to care about a thing the Commissioner had just said. He knew that at another time, when he was less tired, he would care and would have to take on board the Commissioners 'suggestions'. But in that moment Lestrade couldn't care less if he tried.

The sound of his phone ringing surprises Lestrade out of his thoughts and back into the real world. He wishes he'd been napping instead of thinking, it would have been more productive. By the time he finds his phone it had stopped ringing, he looks at the screen only to find that the number is blocked, signing he returns to work, these nothing he could do about it then. Glancing at the paper strewn desk Lestrade pockets the phone before standing. Grabbing the stone-cold coffee he drops it in the bin on he's way out of his office, passing Sally he tells her he's going out for a bit, maybe a coffee and a walk. She smiles before returning to whatever it is she's doing.

Outside New Scotland Yard Lestrade looks around, he's minds worked overtime and he doesn't think anything of the sleek black car that is parked on the curb that drifts forward when he walks away from it. He doesn't think of it until the door is opened and he's pulling into the car before it speeds off.

Lestrade was momentarily floored; he wondered how with all his training he had failed to keep alert. And then he remembered the overwhelming tiredness that had being consuming him, that was still niggling at the edges of his mind. It was an exhaustion that threatened to knock him out cold at any moment. Lestrade glanced around the car; finding it tasteful and expensive, meaning that his kidnapper could be anyone in the higher ranks of London's crime rings. What they'd want with an aging D.I. confused Lestrade, he knew nothing of importance and wouldn't be worth bribing for information or misleading evidence.

In his look around him Lestrade realised he was alone and that whoever had pulled him into the car was no longer in the back seat. They could have get out or moved into the front. Whatever had happened to them it mattered not. Because the few details Lestrade all left him exactly were he'd started, confused and abducted.

The car trip doesn't take that long, so Lestrade is certain he is still in London, he just isn't sure were.

There is no indication that they'd reached their destination, no sound of a door opening, there is little sound as it is. Lestrade hears a car door shut before the right hand passenger door is opened. Lestrade looks out the open to, all he can see is darkened space, likely a warehouse then. The place feels damp and cold and everything seems to have a slight echo.

Hesitant and on his guard Lestrade leaves the car, glancing at the man holding the door open before gazing around him. The building was as he suspected, a warehouse, the building was dark and green-like, all dampness darkness and metal. Feeling on edge Lestrade turned his gaze to the lone figure standing before a small garden table with two seats. To say Lestrade was surprised would be an understatement. Standing there as if nothing was wrong was Mycroft Holmes, he's always present umbrella hooked over the back of one of the garden chairs.

Mycroft smiled at the D.I. who was now striding across the empty warehouse floor to stand before him. As he was walking Mycroft's driver sat himself back in the car, a hint of a smile breaking the man's usual stoic façade.

Neither Mycroft nor Lestrade saw the driver smile. Mycroft watched as Lestrade approached him; he could help but notice the slight way that Lestrade's hips swayed, the confidence he wore as a clock that was evident in his walk, and the self assurance that seemed to seep from his entire being. Mycroft liked all these things he saw in Lestrade. And yet Lestrade's thoughts weren't as agreeable as Mycroft's, Lestrade's thoughts centred more on hurling every insult he could think of at Mycroft.

Luckily Mycroft could read minds and so was unaware of the severity of Lestrade's temper, unfortunately this left Mycroft unprepared and approaching the D.I. from the wrong angle. When the Detective was a few steps away Mycroft moved behind the second chair, the one without the umbrella, pulling it out for Lestrade. Lestrade on the other hand had other ideas, he merely cocked his head to the side and give Mycroft a well practiced 'you're kidding me and fuck off' look. Mycroft smiled in all politeness, "Mr Lestrade it would do you well to sit or I may have to take drastic measures."

Lestrade hadn't been a cop as long as he had to not be able to recognise a threat when one was delivered, any cop who couldn't didn't last long. And so he sat in the offered chair, Mycroft pushed it in for him before taking his own seat. The table between them was set with a tea service, small spoons and forks set beside a plate, a dainty tea cup set on a saucer. The middle of the table held a tower of biscuits, cake and slices and various other accompaniments of tea. A tea pot was set off to the side, next to it was a coffee plunger filled. Lestrade could smell the strong scent of real coffee, made with beans and not instant coffee.

Lestrade's mouth was watering for a taste of the coffee. The smell alone was rich and heavenly, indicating that the coffee was expensive. It was the coffee of the rich and well off, not the kind of coffee that aging Detective Inspector's were exposed to.

All of this was observed by Mycroft. Seeing the longing look Lestrade cast towards the coffee pot and knowing that the D.I lived off the horrible instant coffee of the Yard Mycroft leant forward and poured the Detective a cup. He put the pot back down nearer to the detective before pouring himself a cup of tea.

Mycroft sat back and waited for Lestrade to question his presence there. However the questions never came. Instead Lestrade asked how Mycroft and his people were doing tracking Moriarty.

Mycroft was slightly stunned, he hadn't thought Lestrade knew his position or power. His surprise must have shown because Lestrade was soon laying out his reasons for the question. "Mycroft Holmes. You always arrive in chauffeured cars, your drivers are all buff therefore they likely act as bodyguards. You always seem to have that woman following you and I've heard you use the clearance number reserved for the Queen and the highest of the higher ups."

Mycroft smiled, tilting his head in a mock bow. "Very basic indeed Detective Inspector but it does tell you the basics of my position." Mycroft looked towards the silent car, "All the resources at my power have been utilised in the search for Moriarty. If I find anything, and I will Inspector, I will inform you after I inform my brother"

Lestrade nodded, suddenly feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He had no idea why Mycroft had had him abducted. "How is Sherlock?" he asked, hoping to distract Mycroft and draw attention away from his own discomfort.

"He's… coping. In his own way. My surveillance tells me that he and Dr Watson have not left their apartment and that my brother his attempting to reach conclusions on Moriarty's whereabouts'. I believe he has deduced his possible motives already, if not he should have."

Lestrade frowned at the last bit before smiling, "I would have thought Sherlock would be reassuring himself that John was alright"

It was Mycroft's turn to frown, "Why would he need to do that? He has all the information before him, John himself physically unharmed, to tell him that John is fine"

Lestrade rolled his eyes, "Yes well, I was talking about a different type of reassurance."

Mycroft sat silently for a moment, frowning. Lestrade could have but smile at the picture Mycroft Holmes looked, sitting in his seat tea cup cradled in his hands the aristocratic face set in a cute little frown and the dark dank warehouse behind him contradicting his neat and clean three piece suit. Lestrade wished he had a camera so he could keep the photo. When the comprehension dawned on Mycroft, Lestrade's smile widened in to a grin.

Mycroft pulled a face, somewhere between disgust happiness and sadness, "Damn Mrs Hudson and her vague and chattering ways." He muttered. Lestrade though curious about his comment, wondered why Mycroft was disgusted happy and sad all at once. Lestrade could only think the disgusted was directed at himself, going of five years of working with Sherlock, he thought Mycroft could be disgusted that he hadn't worked it out sooner. Perhaps the happiness was purely because his brother had someone, but the sadness stumped Lestrade. He could only think of it in terms of himself, when he'd found of about Sherlock and John he'd felt old and lonely, he wondered if that's what Mycroft had felt, old and alone.

While thinking Lestrade had unconsciously lowered his gaze to the table, raising it now he looked back at Mycroft and saw the man was regarding him curiously now. "What was that about Mrs Hudson?" he asked, once again trying to distract the man from his intense study.

"Oh nothing" Mycroft waved it off, "I have it on good authority that that you are running on three hours of sleep"

Lestrade spluttered before muttering "Nothing new in that"

Mycroft frowned at the detective before bring up the subject of Moriarty. "How is the hunt for the madman going?" he asked, trying to sound curious even though he knew that Scotland Yard wouldn't know anything he already didn't.

Lestrade sighed, "Can't find a trace of the man. It's like he" here the detective paused, "We found a birth certificate and that's it. A record of birth. James Dean Moriarty, born 5th of March 1976. Mother, Linda Moriarty deceased."

Mycroft hummed, it wasn't anything knew. He had a team searching out facts as he spoke. They'd uncovered the birth certificate and nothing else. Before he'd left he'd instructed the head of the team to send some men into the countries prisons to interrogate prisoners about Jim Moriarty.

Mycroft was curious to the extent of this man's power in the criminal world. If he's men came back empty handed Mycroft would be certain of something, that James Dean Moriarty, however embarrassing his name was most likely the most powerful and influential figure in criminal Briton.

"My men haven't found anything more than yours" answered Mycroft after seeing the expectant look in the detective's eyes, as if he expected to be privy to such information. Mycroft couldn't deny that almost puppy-dog pleading, those usually hard eyes softened and shimmering with something unknown.

Glancing to the side Mycroft contemplated what that look could have meant, really meant. Mycroft was better than Sherlock at reading people's emotions; he prided himself on reasoning out the emotional motivation of people and their acts. Mycroft recognised the emotion in the detective's eyes as something along the lines of love, awe or adoration. Lestrade didn't have the glazed and dilated pupil look of lust. Mycroft supposed that awe was likely the emotion behind those eyes.

The two men were quiet for a moment, each lost in thought. Mycroft was unobtrusively observing Lestrade while the DI seemed to be deep in thought. His face showing the complete focus and concentration he's thoughts held over him. Every now and again Lestrade would scrunch up his nose and frown. After watching him do it for a second time Mycroft caught himself thinking it cute.

The thought came from now where, surprising the eldest Holmes brother. Since when was DI Lestrade cute, or adorable, or any of those words that Mycroft seemed to be associating with the man recently? It made him sound like a mindless teenage fangirl, crying over something they want so much but that is clearly and painfully out of reach.

And with that final sobering thought Mycroft was jerked out of his contemplative silence. "Mr Holmes, what are we doing here? Really?"

Mycroft gazed at the man, London's finest. He looked away "Nothing Detective Inspector. Nothing at all." Mycroft stood and held out his hand. "Thank you for the information, Anthea will take you wherever you want"

He's confusion evident Lestrade stood and shook Mycroft's hand. A soft gasp escaped the DI when their hands connected, Mycroft pushed down the urge to react to the tingling the contact was causing him. Withdrawing his hand Mycroft smiled before walking off. As he walked he moved his hand in front of him so it wouldn't been seen as he flexed it, still feeling the tingly feeling.

If Mycroft had looked back he would have seen and seriously confused Detective Inspector Lestrade rubbing his own hand with the other and staring after the retreating Mycroft Holmes. Anthea had appeared beside him and was asking him where he wanted to go. Lestrade however was lost in thought and memory. In that single moment he relived all those crime scenes where Mycroft Holmes had appeared. Every interaction was played before him. And still nothing the man had done made any sense. Sighing Lestrade turned away and started when he saw the woman next to him. Calming his breathing Lestrade smiled, "I'd like to go home please."

"Of course, this way then" she said, gesturing to the car.

Glancing back once more Lestrade found he couldn't see Mycroft anymore. Slipping into the car he pulled out his mobile phone and called Sally informing her that he wouldn't be coming back to the office. Sighing he relaxed into the leather seat, mind whirling.

Lestrade didn't know when but Mycroft had become a central figure in his life. Every time the man appeared at a crime scene Lestrade had felt safe and comforted, when by all rights the man shouldn't have induced those kinds of feelings. Smiling Lestrade recalled some of the other thoughts he'd had at crime scenes Mycroft had shown up to, thoughts he was surprised that Sherlock had ratted him out for.

Thoughts that involved Mycroft in all sorts of compromising situations, situations that frequently involved something he'd seen on Mycroft's person. Something such as his hat or tie, or that one occasion his umbrella. Lestrade's smile widened, oh yes he'd had surprisingly a lot of fun in that scenario with the umbrella and Mycroft.

Unexpectedly Lestrade was looking forward to his next meeting with Mycroft Holmes. He idly wondered if he could somehow involve the umbrella.


	6. The Abduction of Mycroft

**The Abduction of Mycroft**

The abduction of Mycroft Holmes was as sudden and unexpected as a swarm of bees in the middle of winter attacking a passing goat. In other words it was preposterous and inconceivable. And yet it took place and by the hand of the most innocent and unsuspecting creature, the landlady. Mrs Hudson.

Mycroft had called upon Sherlock the morning of December 2nd to impress upon his brother the importance of attending the Holmes family Christmas. He's knock at the door was answered by Mrs Hudson, all smiles and idle chat. She smiled as she informed the smartly dressed Mr Holmes that his brother was currently indisposed. Mycroft smiled and persisted, trying to barge through but Mrs Hudson was firm. Her boys were not to be disturbed, especially this morning when they were engaged in strenuous activity that would be terribly embarrassing to interrupt.

Mrs Hudson asked if she could take a message. Grimacing Mycroft complied with her request but promised to come back at another time when the couple were less likely to be engaged. Mrs Hudson smiled as she closed the door. Such a lovely young man, she thought, such a shame he lacks a partner. A sense of déjà vu followed the thought, unable to place it the feeling stayed with her as went about her daily routine. All day she pondered the feeling, trying to remember any similar occurrences. The memory came to her as she was making her nightly tea. She'd once thought the same of D.I. Lestrade, and still thought that the detective needed that special someone in his life.

Mrs Hudson pondered these facts all night. She'd observed each man whenever they visited, noticed idle things (nothing like what Sherlock could do, more motherly); the creases in the detective's shirt where it hadn't been ironed, the way that Sherlock's brother distanced himself from those around him. And with every remembered detail Mrs Hudson became certain of the fact that the two men should meet, outside of work and Sherlock, alone. And so began Mrs Hudson's plan to play cupid for Mycroft Holmes and D.I. Lestrade.

Mrs Hudson made her plans; they would chiefly involve getting the two men to meet at the same time without interruptions. For that to happened she decided that Mycroft Holmes needed to be 'persuaded' to go to the restaurant by force if needed where Lestrade would already be, somehow. The details still needed to be fleshed out.

It was after New Year that Mrs Hudson's plans finally bore fruit.

For her plan to work she needed D.I. Lestrade's phone number, which she could only get from Sherlock's mobile. Mrs Hudson had learnt a thing or two from criminal drama shows, that and having the world's only consulting detective as her boarder. She had waited until Sherlock had solved his latest case and catching up on bodily functions that had been held off while on case, things that involved John that she was determined not to think of in detail. And so it was at about eight in the morning that Mrs Hudson ventured into 221B Baker Street, with the guise of tidying up and checking food stocks if either of her boys were up. Poking around she soon found Sherlock's mobile on the kitchen counter next to the kettle. Picking it up, she scrolled though the contacts list until she found Lestrade's number, glancing around making sure she was alone, she took it down. Just as she was about to leave the contacts list she saw Mycroft's name. Hesitating over his number, she glanced around again before taking down Mycroft's number as well, just in case.

After she'd got the numbers she put Sherlock's phone back on the table trying to put it back as she'd found it. She then checked the fridge, sighing in disgust at the contents she wrote a few essentials down on the paper as well.

All in all, the venture had been very successful; she'd gained D.I. Lestrade and Mycroft's numbers and had not been caught in the act. Now all she needed to do was wait until Mycroft showed up on her doorstep again, call Lestrade and get them both to the same restaurant. Either that or text them both under the guise of Sherlock and send them both to the same restaurant.

The plan was brilliant. Mrs Hudson checked in on Sherlock and John before putting the plan into motion. She finds them curled up together on their couch watching a Bond movie, she doesn't think Sherlock is actually watching the movie. Mrs Hudson smiles before quietly closing the door and leaving them alone certain of their preoccupation. Back in her own flat she picked up her mobile, courtesy of Sherlock, and starts writing the text. She has trouble getting it right eventually settling on 'The Thai Flower in an hour. SH'. She sends to both Lestrade and Mycroft.

With that done Mrs Hudson now only has to get ready herself. After all she couldn't very well leave the two men to muddle it out on their own they might do something wrong, like leave.

With about twenty minutes before Lestrade and Mycroft are due to arrive, Mrs Hudson is waiting at the restaurant. She'd placed her own order and reserved a table for the two men under the name Holmes, handing over a bottle of wine she instructed the staff that bottle was to be put on the table once they'd both arrived. And so Mrs Hudson waited, sipping her drink and watching the door.

Lestrade was the first to arrive, Mrs Hudson could see him talking to the head waiter. The D.I. was led to an empty table and seated, the waiter seemed ask something, Mrs Hudson assumed Lestrade was ordering a drink. It wasn't much long after that Mycroft Holmes was shown to the table, just after as Lestrade's drink arrived. Lestrade and Mycroft exchanged questioning glances before Mycroft sat and ordered himself a drink. The two men sat in silence for a while, Mycroft's drink arriving along with the bottle of wine before either made a sound. Greg was the first to break the silence by picking up his menu and making some comment along the lines of 'might as well eat while we're here' to Mycroft who replied as he picked his own menu up.

Mrs Hudson assumed they had decided to order and stay despite the lack of Sherlock. She turned, distracted, as her meal arrived. The handsome waiter placed the plate of sweet and sour pork in front of her smiled and left, leaving a sighing Mrs Hudson. She may not be young but she wasn't blind, the boy could have easily been three times younger than her but by Jove he was good looking.

During her momentary distraction Mrs Hudson had missed Greg lean across the table and kiss Mycroft hello. She glanced back at their table in time to see Lestrade resettling himself and Mycroft taking a sip from his drink to cover the grin he was sporting, of course Mrs Hudson could see that.

Back at their table Mycroft was discreetly scanning the restaurant for any threats. The only threat he found, however, was one little old lady they were both familiar with. A one Mrs Hudson. Mycroft hummed with curiosity as his quickly deduced the reason for his brother's landlady to be present. She had set Greg and himself up. "Mrs Hudson is here" Mycroft announced casually causing Lestrade to look around in search of the old lady. Smiling playfully Mycroft scolded him, "And here I thought you were a detective. You should be discreet, only looking with your eyes, not your head. Really what are they teaching at the Yard?"

Coughing to hide a laugh Greg decided to play along, "Okay, only moving my eyes". Mycroft watched as Greg scanned the restaurant, there were quite a few lunch time patrons to glance over. Sighing Greg looked back to Mycroft "Alright where is she?" he asked, his amusement showing through.

"9 o'clock" Mycroft answered, smiling at his boyfriend. Greg nodded as he spotted her, "Why do you think she's here?" Greg asked, he's curiosity peaked.

"Most likely to play matchmaker" Mycroft answered smiling as a waiter approached their table.

"Are you ready to order, Sir's?" the waiter asked them pad and pen at the ready. Greg smiled at his lover as he Mycroft nodded. "Yes. I'll have the combination Chow Mein, with no onions and could you use a low fat oil when cooking everything." The waiter gave Mycroft a tight lipped smile and Greg could almost hear the man silently plotting to kill Mycroft Holmes. Greg smiled at the man opposite him in amusement. "I'll have the Pad Thai, thank you" he informed the waiter, trying to make up for Mycroft's pickiness.

They catch each other up on their day so far as they wait for their food. Greg tells Mycroft how Sally keeps hinting that she has a friend she'll set him up with and how Anderson is giving him a hard time about. Mycroft laughs and asks if maybe he should lay his claim then. They are laughing when their food arrives, the waiter obviously trying hard not to glare at Mycroft. Greg smiles fondly at Mycroft as he gives the waiter an unimpressed look.

The rest of the meal follows much along the same line, Mycroft tells Greg the secrets of he's day so far, the highlight of which was when Anthea made one of the country's top politicians cry. No names mentioned, but all the same it made Greg laugh and Mycroft exulted in making Greg laugh.

After they had finished eating, their plates cleared away and a shared desert devoured the two men stood, hands clasped as Mycroft paid for their meal. Squeezing Greg's hand, Mycroft adopted his 'I am so much more powerful than you and if I wanted I could have you killed' manner and pointed to Mrs Hudson's table "I'd like to pay for her meal too". The waiter, could only nod as he processed that payment as well.

Nodding in thanks Mycroft pocketed his wallet and wrapped his arm around Greg's waist. "To the Yard?" he asked, silently asking Greg if he'd like to go home instead. "I do have work" Greg answered leaning up to kiss Mycroft. Opening the door Mycroft smiled, "I can get you out of that"

Mrs Hudson was left open mouthed as the couple left, her bill paid for. In the end her plan hadn't been needed, Mycroft and Lestrade had already found their happiness. Her surprise melted into contentment; at least they'd have someone to love and care for them. She wondered briefly if it was an elaborate hoax on her but she found she couldn't care less as long as they were happy.

...

**AN:** So it took me a bit of time to write this last part. I had no idea how to end it so basically my plot points were Mycroft and PDAs and then it ends in sexy time most likely in Mycroft's car.

Sorry it took so long and may not be the best writing but yeah.

I'll leave you with a Greg Lestrade quote "I don't just do what your brother tells me"


End file.
